


Love Speaks Many Languages

by WackyGoofball



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Bless you all that there is a tag for that already, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Eddie Diaz Speaks Spanish, Eddie Diaz is bad at expressing his feelings in any language beside Spanish, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Insecure Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Insecure Evan "Buck" Buckley, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Oblivious Evan "Buck" Buckley, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, That's it, What do you mean with "too many tags"???, and Buck adopts a cat, that's the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29684454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WackyGoofball/pseuds/WackyGoofball
Summary: Eddie picked up a bad habit: He is cursing, in Spanish, at Buck, all the time. Until he isn't just cursing at him, expressing things he would never say out loud in English. But at the very least, Buck does not know what else he is saying in the language his partner doesn't understand. That way, Eddie doesn't have to worry about much of anything. Right?Meanwhile, Buck tries his best to figure out how not to blurt out what he truly feels for Eddie. Because the moment he starts to talk, Buck knows he is done for.Also: Buck adopts a cat.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 283
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	1. Code Word: Fire Feline

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, thanks for looking into this fic. You are very brave.
> 
> To send some quick warnings ahead:
> 
> 1) I do not watch the show intensively. I basically just came along the ride for the Buddie goodness and have since dipped my toes into the fandom (i.e. I have read way too much fanfic by now to spark all kinds of headcanons, the result of which is also this here).  
> 2) English is not my native language. Since I roll around without a beta, I own any mistakes and keep rolling with them.  
> 3) I speak no Spanish at all. Any Spanish you see in this fic is a result of internet research. Any Spanish speakers - please don't be mad. I am really just here for the plotless plot to get those two idiots together.  
> 4) This fic is the result of the very specific headcanon of Eddie cursing at Buck in Spanish when he's fussing/worried AND Buck adopting a cat. I cannot tell you where it came from, but here it is. Bon appétit.  
> 5) I have shit updating times. So be prepared.
> 
> But enough of the warnings. I hope you enjoy the folly. Much love! ♥♥♥

“ _No me estás escuchando, Iván!_ ”

Though Eddie can’t really blame Buck for not listening to him when he continues to curse at him in Spanish.

“ _Estás pero si bien pendejo!_ ” Eddie cusses despite knowing that his partner cannot, as a matter of fact, understand that he tells him that he is an idiot. Though by the tone of his voice, Buck likely understands that his partner is upset with him, at least.

Eddie doesn’t know when exactly he started venting his frustrations about his partner almost exclusively in Spanish, but he realized over time that it grew to be more frequent. Not that Buck ever seems to mind. Perhaps he is relieved not to know what Eddie sometimes throws at him in the heat of the moment.

And in their line of work, there often is a lot of heat in the moment.

Tonight is no different, trotting after Evan Buckley, digging up all curses the Spanish language provides – as there are plenty of that – bound to watch his partner walk on perfectly unaware, with the typical swagger in his step. Even with the face mask on, even with his back turned to him as they make their way back to the firetrucks and the ambulances, Eddie knows that his partner is smiling like an idiot.

“ _Pendejo!_ ”

Though perhaps he is about as much of an idiot as the guy prancing in front of him. He knew the moment he told Buck _specifically_ to follow him out of the burning construction site and not leave his tail that Evan Buckley would not stick to that. Because that is who Buck is. Still, it frustrates Eddie to no end that it took Buck no more than five seconds to move the opposite direction without another word.

Because Buck heard something and suspected another person in there. Leave it to this firefighter to actually rescue _a cat_ not from a tree but from a construction site where teenagers thought it was a great idea to play around with gasoline to make some _atmospheric_ pictures and videos for their Insta followers. At least that is what they found out when they got the first lot out of the building and one of the girls kept complaining that all pictures turned out blurry.

And so, because his partner is Evan Buckley, firefighter and _pendejo_ extraordinaire, Eddie walks only ever just one step behind him to ensure the man does not even dare to take another detour. As he continues his ranting, Eddie is bound to watch Buck cradle this _admittedly_ adorable albeit a little scorched older cat in his strong arms.

“Buckaroo, a cat, really?” Hen calls out as he sees the two approach.

“I thought it was a kid!” Buck sniggers, readjusting his grip on the cat with brown, matted, sooty fur.

“Well, lucky you the cat decided not to claw your face off out of fright,” Chim chuckles, shaking his head.

Buck looks down at the cat. “Nah, we are best buds.”

“I think it is a female, Buckaroo,” Hen informs him in her usual gentle voice.

“I can be best buds with the feline dudes and dudettes.”

Hen rolls her eyes, amused. “A true ally for feline feminism, Mr. Buckley.”

“You bet!” Buck laughs.

It is at that moment that Eddie decides he’s had enough.

“ _¡Dios! ¡Dios mío!_ ” Eddie pulls off his helmet, then rolls down his mask. “You were supposed to follow me!”

Buck turns around on the back of the heel, frowning at him. “But I couldn’t leave what I thought to be a kid. And I couldn’t leave this precious kitty either, could I?”

When the cat starts to purr at him, Eddie is ready to lose his mind. Really, he knows, he _knows_ that Buck has an immeasurably big heart that reaches even across species. Yet, it drives Eddie up invisible walls that his partner can just stand there, unaware of how much he makes Eddie worry for him, smiling it away.

_And all that because of a cat and some Insta pictures!_

“We should bring the cat to the vet,” Buck ponders, not in the least bothered by Eddie’s words. _Of course not_ , because that, too, is Buck. And most of the time, Eddie loves that about him. But there are those days when he absolutely wants to strangle Buck for getting himself into trouble or almost dying on him. Because Eddie needs that _pendejo_ in his life, more than he’d want to, especially during moments like these.

“I don’t think the cat will want to leave your side,” Hen chuckles softly, watching the cat rub herself against Buck, seemingly very desperate for him not to put her down, or rather, very desperate for him not to leave her, ever.

“Oh well, if the cat doesn’t have a chip, I may just as well adopt this one. Judging by the looks, she also lost a few lives already – like me. Plus, a cat on fire for a firefighter seems like a neat thing if you asked me,” Buck thinks aloud. “I mean, historically, it’s Dalmatians because they cleared the streets for when they still had horse carriages for firefighting. But why not a fireproof cat, huh?”

“Oh Buckaroo, do you find that wise?” Hen tilts her head to the side.

“I worked on a dude ranch before, remember? I lived with cats for months and they all loved me, safe for Mr. Meatballs. That black shorthair launched itself from the beams in the haymow when you least expected it with any intention to get a chunk of your face. God, I hated that cat.” He shakes his head, reminiscing.

Hen sighs. “There are still so many questions about your journeys left unanswered, Buckaroo.”

“The farm was great. Just not Mr. Meatballs.”

“Hen, Chimney! Can you help here for a second?” Bobby calls.

“Sure thing, Cap!” both say, already heading off.

Buck continues to stand there, oblivious as ever to how infuriating he can be with his antics, only ever adding gasoline to the flame heating up in the pits of Eddie’s stomach. Because that guy even has the audacity to start to almost dance with the cat in his arms like people do with an upset child, looking way too much like a father right at this moment.

“I mean it, Buck,” Eddie insists, more composed now, though no less pissed off about it all. “You were supposed to follow my lead.”

“And I did, right after. C’mon, Eddie, can you resist those pretty eyes?” Buck bargains, holding up the cat right to his face. Eddie stares right through the feline to look Buck in the eyes.

Because no, he can’t resist _those_ eyes, but that is nothing he’d share in either English _or_ Spanish. Or any language existing on planet earth. Those are the things Eddie stores in a neat little box, right up there with how soft Buck looks when he cradles children or small animals in his arms.

Because Evan Buckley is not the only _pendejo_ of the bunch, it would seem. But Eddie is still too angry to think about that.

“Buck, put the cat down,” he demands, making sure to keep his voice leveled. Because he would rather not have Bobby tear them apart as Eddie feels any urge to start a fight.

“But look at her!” Buck argues, raising and lowering the cat in front of him, as though that may hypnotize Eddie into forgiving him.

“You won’t bargain me into stopping to be mad at you with the cat, no matter the eyes,” he declares resolutely.

_And no matter whose it is._

“I will give a warning next time, okay?” Buck offers. “Code word: Fire feline.”

Eddie feels any impulse to go on cursing at his partner for his recklessness, English or Spanish doesn’t matter, but as he watches Buck’s sheer excitement about the rescue kitten, Eddie finds the anger boiling down to a fuzzy warm feeling that makes him huff and smile and roll his eyes.

Because this is who Buck is, he knows it, they all know it. Never giving up, soft and caring, and with a heart of gold that should be heavy but is as light as a feather.

_Add that to the box you don’t ever want to open, Diaz._

“We’re good, partner?” Buck asks, now with a bit more seriousness in his voice.

“Yeah, we are good,” Eddie assures him.

“Alright, time to find a vet, then!”

Eddie scratches his forehead, preparing for the inevitable late-night visit at the vet and Insta pictures of Buck’s new cat on his account about to flood the notifications.

* * *

Eddie remains proven right a couple of days later, when Hen shows him _Flareon’s_ very own Instagram account on her phone, proudly presented to you by Mr. Evan Buckley. The cat had five hundred followers only ten minutes into the profile being launched, numbers still rising by the minute. A fact Eddie gets updates on from Buck _without_ asking for it. _Ever_.

Apparently, some news outlets caught on to the story and made a small report about the rescue kitten in the hands of a very handsome fireman who’s also been on the news before. Though that time he was under a firetruck and closer to death than he should have any business being.

The story spread like wildfire as kids started to share memes about cats rescued by firefighters, adding the photo of Buck and Flareon to the mix, and so it took Buck no more than ten minutes to put together an account and upload all images of Flareon he’d already taken.

Eddie just leans against the railing, past the point to care about Hen showing him every picture of Buck’s scorched little rescue cat.

“Look at how cute that cat is!” Hen laughs, leaving another like for Flareon before moving on to the next image, only ever leaving Eddie to wonder how many pictures Buck is able to post within mere minutes. “There are cat beds that look like firetrucks. I did _not_ know that!”

“You should _not_ enable him,” Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes at her. “And I don’t think there are. Buck has a knack for building stuff. He also did most of the work for the harness for Christopher so he can try skateboarding.”

No, Buck doesn’t need anyone else enabling him. Eddie already did that enough by accompanying his partner to perhaps the only vet who was available at that hour of the night in Los Angeles during a pandemic. And he did so by listening to Buck parading himself over the phone about knowing how to give a bath to a scared, scorched cat _while_ giving a bath to a scared, scorched cat.

“But look at her sleeping in that tiny firetruck with her wee paws curled around the wee ladder, Eddie!” Hen insists, wriggling her phone at him for emphasis.

Eddie is tempted to look away and roll his eyes because he's had it up to his hairline with Buck and his rescue kitten, but then his eyes catch the image on the screen of Hen's phone. He shakes his head. “Okay, fine, that _is_ too damn cute.”

“Ain’t that right. You get a like and a comment for being so precious, little Flareon,” Hen hums, continuing her journey down that rabbit hole, or _cat_ hole in that context.

So yes, Eddie is well aware that he has been enabling Buck way too much. He also knows that Buck holds a strange kind of power on him when he uses those damn puppy eyes on him, the childish excitement not much different of that of his own son. Eddie would like to say that he grew immune to it, but all the toys he bought for Chris and all the detours he took to get him ice cream do not attest to that kind of parental willpower. And apparently, he lacks the same willpower specifically when it comes to Evan Buckley – and the bane of his life, those damn big blue eyes, full of hope and enthusiasm.

It leaves Eddie to wonder just who is the bigger _pendejo_ of the two, though he knows that if he were to ask the team, they’d instantly tell him the ugly truth: they are both idiots of the same caliber.

At least Eddie managed to put his foot down to keep Buck from naming the cat Cindy Clawford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, this is what Eddie is supposed to say in Spanish:
> 
> " _No me estás escuchando, Iván!_ " – "You're not listening to me, Evan!"
> 
> " _Estás pero si bien pendejo!_ " – "You’re a fucking idiot!"
> 
> " _Pendejo!_ " – "Idiot!"
> 
> " _¡Dios! ¡Dios mío!_ " - "God! Oh my God!"


	2. Only One Stray at a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher wants to pet the cat and nothing will stop him, even less so his oh so worried dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for leaving so many likes on so much nonsense! And even comments! Y'all are gems!
> 
> And so, the madness continues! Let the plotless plot commence!
> 
> I hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> Much love! ♥♥♥

Eddie had the fleeting hope that he could keep the existence of Buck’s scorched Insta cat from Christopher a while longer. After all, there is still a pandemic going on and Eddie rather has Chris at home most of the time. But apparently, Pepa and his abuela saw Flareon on the news, and have since deiced to join the fast-growing fan club.

So it was only a matter of time until Chris found out and now wants in on the fan club, too. Just that Christopher wants more than be part of the club. He wants to pet the pet. And he lets his father know, all the time, breakfast, dinner, after homework, in-between homework, even while brushing teeth.

Eddie remained gentle yet stern, tried to reason with Chris that he’d get to spend a lot of time with Flareon once the pandemic was better under control. But when Chris nearly wailed when Flareon would not sit still in front of the screen when he was on FaceTime with Buck for him to look at her, Eddie knew he was done for. And so, he made all arrangements for Chris to finally pet the pet.

While Eddie rationally knows that a cat scratch does not anywhere near compare to what happened to Chris during the tsunami, he is still rather weary of the whole situation. Cats can be moody, and given the cat’s recent experiences, the feline may well have misgivings to anyone who is not the man who rescued her. And he’d rather not have Chris be scratched after he hyped himself up ever since his father caved in and planned a visit over at Buck’s.

Of course, this is not in the least helped by Buck having hyped up the kid even more, having declared it his personal obligation to give Chris extra images even the fan club does not get to see. Also, he apparently considers merchandise at this point, Eddie was told.

When Buck opens the door and cheerily walks them inside, instantly falling into chatter with Chris, Eddie bites down the Spanish curses on the tip of his tongue. The last thing he needs is for Chris to pick up some phrases to blurt out at his abuela. Because she will know instantly who taught Chris these, and then he’s in for a lecture Eddie does not want to have, and in fact never wanted to have since he himself was a kid.

“I see Flareon introduces herself, so I don’t have to,” Buck laughs, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts, back to Christopher crooning with glee as the cat rubs herself against Chris’s legs and his crutches, not forceful enough to throw him off-balance but sure strong enough for her to instantly win over his little big heart.

“Wow, buddy, you must be _really_ special to Flareon already. Because she does not let just anyone close,” Buck encourages Chris, which only intensifies the boy’s excitement.

“Dad! She likes me!”

Eddie looks at his son fondly. “Of course she does, _mijo_.”

Buck walks up to him to pat him lightly on the shoulder, sporting his usual, casual grin. “She basically likes everyone, but we needn’t tell him that, do we?”

“Not at all,” Eddie agrees, unable to hold back his own smile this time.

Buck gives his shoulder another gentle squeeze, already going on about whatever news he didn’t yet update him on concerning the cat. But Eddie hardly listens to it, still growing increasingly aware of the fact that the tension he’d felt all the way to here just melted away. Leave it to Evan Buckley to get him worked up over a cat, only to then make him forget all worries and relax.

“Buck! Flareon’s hurt!” Chris whines as he sits down on the ground to cuddle with the feline.

“I know, buddy, but she’s taking her meds and I make sure she heals all nicely,” Buck assures him.

Admittedly, Flareon actually looks worse for the wear. The vet shaved off some fur to apply gauze or creams to help the healing. Her whiskers are rather short and curled in all kinds of directions from the heat. And the top part of her left ear is missing, though that was not the result of the fire the teenagers started. The vet told them that she seemingly got into a fight years ago, as she is no longer a kitten but, as Buck says it, “a lady with class and sass.”

“You know, the fact that Flareon becomes an Insta star instead of the kids that nearly set her on fire seems like a wink of fate,” Buck laughs as Christopher gathers the cat in his arms, careful not to hurt her, but still trying to get as much cat on him as is humanly possible, all the while telling her what a pretty kitty she is.

“You know I don’t believe in fate,” Eddie huffs.

“Lucky coincidence then.” Buck rolls his shoulders.

“Well, it’s not so much a coincidence when someone decides to go against the orders.”

“Are you still mad at me?” Buck huffs. “I thought we were good, Eds.”

Eddie just glares at him, which seems to be enough of an answer for Buck. He is still mad about it, naturally, but Eddie is rather mad about himself. Because somehow, Buck found the switch to melt all of his resolves. And that doesn’t sit well with Eddie, who very much relies on the safety net of his own composure.

And he needs any bit of composure to make sure that a certain box stays shut.

“Fine. I apologize, _again_. C’mon man, be happy for me. I have an amazing roommate now. She even uses the cat toilet properly already. Flareon may easily surpass Albert in usefulness any of these days.” He bends down when the cat runs her body against his calf after she hopped from Chris’s embrace. Buck scratches her behind the ears, smiling softly. “That’s coz you are a lady, ain’t that right?”

“ _Esto es muy frustrante_ ,” Edie mutters under his breath. Really, only Buck manages to frustrate him like that – by being kind and oblivious and with the golden heart he’d have any reason not to have after all that’s been.

“And by the way, Dr. Copeland said that it’d probably be good for me to have someone to take care of beside Albert,” Buck adds. Eddie always listens attentively when Buck drops the name, because he would not put it past his partner to claim something was Dr. Copeland’s idea only just to get his will.

Eddie shakes his head, chuckling. “Therapy cat?”

“Something like that.” Buck shrugs. “And you heard what the vet said: Flareon would not have stood much of a chance at an animal shelter, with pandemic on the rise and because of the health and age. I couldn’t let that happen to her, could I?”

“Of course not,” Eddie sighs. No, that would have been very much unlike his partner. He never leaves anyone behind. Even if that someone has four paws and misses some fur.

“Though I never took you to be a cat person, to be honest,” Eddie adds. “You always struck me more as a dog person. Like a golden retriever.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind having a dog any of these days, but cats are easier to handle. And as you can see, Flareon here is a literal angel. Albert takes care of her when I am away for a longer shift, and she is good staying on her own, too. She is an independent old lady after all.”

“Just for the record, try not to do that again,” Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Buck looks back at him, tilting his head to the side. “I won’t let Flareon walk into a burning building. Ever.”

“You know what I mean.”

Buck rolls his shoulders. “Can’t promise what I know I can’t keep, Eds.”

It is during moments like these that Eddie wished that he’d have the powers to make Buck just a little less reckless when it comes to his own safety, but then he remembers that yes, this is who Evan Buckley is. And for that, Eddie admires him. For that, he is loved by everyone, the 118, Chris, and, _well_ …

Add that to the box.

“Dad! Buck needs to stay over at our place!” Chris announces.

“Why’s that, _mijo_?”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “So Flareon is with us. Forever.”

Eddie gives Buck a look. The younger man only ever laughs, clapping one hand against his chest. “It’s just her charm and no one’s immune to it, Eddie.”

“Dad!”

“ _Mijo_ , this is Buck’s cat, so she belongs here, in Buck’s apartment.”

“But Buck belongs with us, too!”

“ _Mijo_.”

Chris makes a noise in the back of his throat to voice his disapproval that may be the accurate acoustic representation of throwing hands.

“But you know you can come visit her,” Buck bargains.

“Or you move into the house, so she lives with all of us.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your dad’s feeling confident in taking two strays in. Only one at a time,” Buck laughs, patting Chris’s head gently.

Christopher looks less than pleased, puckering his lips, cuddling Flareon all the tighter.

“How about you sit down so we can play a game,” Buck offers instead.

“So long it’s no _Scrabble_.”

Buck looks up at Eddie. “He really hated playing that, huh?”

“He threw a tantrum for the rest of the evening.”

“But wumbo _is_ a word, dad! Patrick said it to SpongeBob!”

“But it was not in the dictionary, we both checked together, _mijo_!”

“But Patrick said it!”

“In fairness, if Patrick said…,” Buck tries, but Eddie cuts him off harshly, “Don’t you dare.”

“Maybe we should go with _Snakes or Ladders_ next,” Buck offers instead, which only earns him a furrowed eyebrow from Eddie’s son. “What do snakes do on ladders?”

“Or he just rolls on the floor with the cat till he’s all tired,” Buck sniggers. Chris points his finger at him. “This man got it.”

Buck places a hand over his heart. “I got it.”

“ _Cállate_.”

Buck breaks out giggling at that. Eddie would _really_ want Buck to shut up, but when his friend cracks up laughing like that, he can’t help himself and laugh along. Because even if he is mad at almost having lost Buck again, the truth is: It didn’t happen. The truth is: They are here. And so long they are like this, everything seems a little less scary, like it makes a bit more sense.

Like the world as they know it, the world Eddie loves so much, can stay as it is.

So long no one opens any Pandora’s boxes, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Eddie is supposed to say in Spanish:
> 
> " _Esto es muy frustrante._ " - "This is so frustrating."
> 
> " _mijo_ " - "(my) son"
> 
> " _Cállate._ " - "Shut up."


	3. We Are a Team, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buck can't come by as often as usual. Chris misses his best friend, and so does Eddie. But a video call should help a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, good day to you.
> 
> For that the plot is really just those two idiots realizing their feelings and Buck adopting a cat, I am surprised we are all still here. I applaud you and bow to you. Also, many thanks for kudoing and commenting. It's made my day, honestly.
> 
> Anyway, here's to another plotless installment.
> 
> Stay tuned! Much love! ♥♥♥

Eddie would like to say that he got better at his habit to curse at Buck in Spanish. But he really didn’t. In fact, it got worse. He almost feels like some of the women of his family who walk around the house, cursing to themselves about not taken out trash here, dirty dishes there, instead of telling their lazy-ass husbands to get a move.

Eddie is cursing at Buck not just small phrases here and there anymore, Eddie keeps talking at him in Spanish, barely catching his breath going from one complaint to the next rant and back again. It is just such an easy way to vent that Eddie can’t seem to stop himself now that he found that way to get out his frustration with his partner and his admittedly adorable cat.

And _yes, fine_ , Eddie _did_ follow Flareon on Instagram. Crucify him for caving in after Buck added a tiny hose to the firetruck made out of a cut-up pantyhose and started posting pictures of Flareon playing with said miniature hose.

_Panty-hose, c’mon._

So he is still cursing at Buck, which grew to be a kind of monotonous chatter following his partner when he is doing something reckless again or just being stupid about some small thing that Eddie knows he shouldn’t get upset with but does anyway.

Not the trash or the dishes, really, Buck is a cleanly person and always helps with the chores while over at his house. More than maybe he should at times, Eddie started to ponder not long ago when Buck was over at theirs. While it is normal to clean up after yourself, especially if you normally spend half the time at your friend’s place, Eddie started to notice that Buck gets restless when he is not doing anything while Eddie goes through some basic chores. And when he tells Buck to leave it, he gets that strange look on his face, bites his lip, and Eddie is not sure just why he’d be upset about not having to dry off the plates and instead sit on the couch and relax. Eddie made a mental note a while back to address the matter, but he can’t really start that before he tidied up his own mess, can he?

While Eddie has not yet found a way to stop doing it, he knows at least in part why he is doing it. It’s easy. It’s easy to fall into that pattern because Eddie can just say the things he normally swallows down, keeps behind a mask, inside a box. Eddie is not great talking about his feelings. _No big secret there_. Buck understands this and he never pushes for it, unless he has to, like he had to with the street fighting. So letting out his frustrations instead of eating them up seems like a compromise for Eddie.

_Kinda._

At least Buck doesn’t know what he says, so all he can do is guess from Eddie’s tone of voice. And normally, Buck always laughs at the antic and accuses his partner of starting to take after his abuela. Though Eddie will that as a badge of honor any time.

So while it becomes very easy for Eddie to fall into that pattern, he knows he is not doing himself any favors letting it happen. Because that will make quitting all the harder. Though that starts to morph into the story of his life. Because Eddie finds himself doing and feeling a lot of things he knows he shouldn’t, as it always leads him further down the rabbit hole.

But with the times as uncertain as they are right now, Eddie wants things to stay as they are. Buck has grown to be such a constant in their lives, and he thanks God for it every day, he does. Eddie wouldn’t want that strangely beautiful thing to change, or even worse, to take fissures and break, just because of a stupid box he keeps tossing around. Because when they are as they are, it feels like they can make things work, no matter how difficult times may seem.

“Dad?”

Eddie lifts his gaze from the plate in front of him, over to his son, shoving bits and pieces of his dinner from left and right with his fork.

“Hm, what is it, Chris?” he asks.

“When’s Buck going to come over again?” Christopher wants to know, scrunching his nose as he more or less forces down another bite. Eddie will have to admit this dinner turned out more miserable than most others.

Because, for the record, his cooking is not as bad as people – _Buck especially_ – make it out to be.

_But yeah, this is no good._

Eddie sighs. “I don’t know, _mijo_. Buck is working a lot, so he doesn’t have much free time, I told you.”

While the two get see each other at work, it’s just not the same it used to be. With the pandemic on the rise, they have to work even crazier hours to make ends meet. To make matters worse, there was a small outbreak with two of the other teams at the LAFD a couple of days ago. While the remaining members of the teams were cleared after testing, they are still short by a few. So Buck volunteered to work some extra shifts to help ends meet until the others are back.

“It’s no big deal. I have no family waiting at home beside Albert and Flareon, and both are house-trained by now,” was all he’d said with a smile on his face and Eddie wanted to boot him for it, wanted to curse at him very much in Spanish and not very kindly.

Because there _was_ a family, _damn it_ , but then Eddie wanted to boot himself for even thinking it. Because he understood Buck was being a good colleague and even better friend, not just to the other teams but to them also. By calling dibs on the extra-shifts, Buck could make sure that the others got as much time with their families as possible, and are as safe with them as they can be.

Because Buck knows there’s family, and he wants to protect it just as much as Eddie does.

As a result, Buck has been even more absent than he is anyway during these strange times, either at work or probably just crashing on the bed after too many hours putting his life on the line.

Eddie sees that it’s taking its toll on Christopher, too. He loves him to bits and pieces and vice versa. And of course, Christopher also misses the cat, which does not at all help Eddie when he tries to console his son about another movie night having to be postponed or for a call not happening as Buck can’t answer.

It is strange how the absence of something forces you to realize just how important it is to you. At least Eddie had that realization over and over again ever since Buck started to work more and thus became more absent at their home.

Normally, Buck’s presence is so tangible even when he is not physically in the house that it almost seems like Buck is just about to round the corner, even when he isn’t. But these days, it almost feels like shadows on the wall turn to ghosts. Because he won’t round the corner.

Though Buck tries, of course he does, he always does. He constantly texts, sends pictures, FaceTimes, or whatever else he can come up with to keep up contact, not to lose the connection to Chris.

There is a part of Eddie that aches at the realization that part of this insistence is likely deeply rooted in Buck’s trauma as a child, in his desperation to be seen, not to be forgotten or abandoned. Another part of him aches as much to realize just how important those small moments actually are. Because now that they are less frequent, shorter, more sporadic, he feels his fingers twitch, wanting to hold on a minute longer.

In fact, Eddie has to gather all of his strength to end a call early when he sees Buck nearly passing out from fatigue on the other end of the line while Chris keeps talking away about his school day. Because those small moments are part of the foundation of their normalcy, the assurance that they are okay. Just that this foundation grew shaky and brittle lately, and Eddie can’t stand it at all.

Things that are routines are suddenly no more. What used to be given can suddenly no longer be taken for granted. And there are not enough curses in the Spanish language to express that frustration, this grief over the loss of these supposedly minor things that manage to make so much of a difference, for as long as they are there.

Eddie just knows he wants back to how things were before the world was crazy. And while he knows he is not at all alone in that desire, Buck’s absence makes it achingly clear to him how any sense of normalcy is tied to the man who fit into his life so effortlessly. The man who keeps filling up the fissures just as effortlessly to keep him from breaking. The man for whom he feels things he can’t express in any other language beside the one Buck does not speak.

“You can text him after dinner, see if he wants to FaceTime with us,” Eddie offers.

Chris sighs, letting his head hang low. “I miss him.”

“I know, _mijo_.” He bites back the _you and me both_ , because it’s ridiculous. Eddie sees Buck at work all the time. So he is definitely in no place to lament about it to his son, when Chris has got any reason to want to spend time with his best _mostly_ adult friend. But still, Eddie misses the normalcy that bloomed in Buck’s radiant presence. Eddie misses how much he felt at ease, for the simple fact that he knew Buck was there with him, on the job and outside it.

And admittedly, he also misses Buck’s cooking, as does Chris.

The half-burned dinner is not as much enjoyed as it is merely consumed to stay nourished, but by no means enjoyed. Chris leaps to the phone almost immediately to start texting once Eddie tells him it’s okay to get up from the table.

While the answer takes a bit of time, he is not surprised that Buck immediately agrees to talk to his “ _fave Diaz boyyyys in all e wrld_ ”. Chris is vibrating in his seat next to his dad as he starts FaceTime. It takes a moment to connect, but at last, Buck comes into view.

“Buck!”

“Hey, buddy.”

“It’s not bed time yet, Buck!” Chris points out to him, wrinkling his nose at the image of a darkened room.

Buck can only ever laugh at him tiredly. He is indeed lying in bed, his hair a mess, blinking repeatedly at the light of the screen. Clearly, he only just woke up mere moments ago. If the narrow slits of his eyes didn’t tell the tale of a man who is desperate for sleep, the hunched over shoulders definitely complete the story.

“I know, bud, but I just got off work, so it’s bed time for me,” Buck sighs.

“You’re doing okay?” Eddie asks, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Peachy,” Buck laughs it away, in the way Eddie knows him to, though he’d rather not. “But I can’t wait for the others to get back. The double-shifts are overkill, man.”

“I told you, if it’s too much, you gotta talk to Bobby,” Eddie tries to reason, as he has done during their last shift already, and the one before. Though he’d have the same chances telling it in Spanish – because Buck won’t listen to him. He knows it. Buck knows it. The world knows it. And it pisses Eddie off to no end that the entire universe already knows that there is nothing that will change this situation.

“And I told you it’s perfectly fine, I just want to be pitied a bit for my grand sacrifice. Also, it’s always good when people owe you a favor or two. You never know when you need someone to cover your shift,” Buck sniggers, only to start yawning again. “And anyway, I have Flareon curled up in my side, purring like a lawnmower. Heaven can't be any cozier than that, man."

He adjusts the screen slightly to reveal the bundle of fur snuck against his stomach.

“Flareon!”

“Not so loud, Chris,” Eddie shushes his son gently.

Chris folds his hands in front of his mouth, whispering, “Sorry, Flareon.”

“She’s fine,” Buck assures the boy quickly. “If you purr like a lawnmower, it takes a bulldozer to wake you up.”

Buck tilts the screen back again, trying to ease into a more comfortable position he won’t find, Eddie is sure. He rubs one hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We can also call at another time, if you want to…,” Eddie tries, but Buck cuts him off before he can get out the offer, “Hey, don’t you dare separate me from my best bud, okay?”

“He means me!” Chris says, pointing at himself.

Buck chuckles. “Who else if not you, bud?”

He props his elbow up on his pillow, trying to appear more awake than he really is. “So. Tell me about your day at school, hm?”

“Our math teacher didn’t get the camera to work again,” Christopher recounts.

Buck grimaces at him. “Chris, I told you, he’s old, you gotta tell him to switch the camera on.”

“But it’s so much fun!”

“We had the talk about respecting your teachers, even those that don’t know basic technology. We at the 118 all have to babysit Bobby with social media, too, so he doesn't accidentally post his social security number on Facebook. You are all a team in your class. That team includes the teacher,” Buck lectures him, gently yet firmly. “And do you leave someone from the team behind?”

“No, they help each other out,” Chris heaves a sigh. “I won’t let it happen again, promise.”

“That’s the spirit, buddy,” Buck sighs happily, before adding with a crooked grin, “And anyway, don’t waste your time on that when you can plot actual pranks.”

Eddie frowns. Christopher apparently didn’t mention that secret knowledge about the math teacher to his father but to Buck instead. Though he is grateful that Buck is not caving in but corrects the little mischief his son is playing – even if he offered pranking right after, but that’s Evan Buckley 101 for you. Normally, Buck tends to spoil the kid and let everything slide, which is easy with a kid as sweet as Chris, but parenting also means enforcing the rules. So it is a relief to him that Buck is not trying to be the good cop, so he is forced into playing the bad cop.

_It’s always better to have both parents on the same side... Damn, Diaz, get a grip already!_

“When are you going to come over to see us?” Chris asks.

“Soon, I hope,” Buck yawns. “I really want to, but…”

“Yeah, I know,” Chris sighs. “But we are all a team in this.”

“Ain’t that right?” Buck smiles.

Eddie’s partner lasts through Christopher recalling all that went on in homeschooling as well as the miserable dinner the little traitor had to bring up to him. Though Eddie can see that Buck is barely holding on to the edges of consciousness. His eyes are narrow slits at best by the time they get to Chris’s poor grading of Eddie’s admittedly poor dinner. Though Buck really tries to stay awake because he knows how important it is for Chris, and probably because he misses him about as much.

“Alright, _mijo_ , I think it’s time to say goodbye to Buck,” Eddie says eventually. “Buck needs to sleep.”

“It’s no problem…,” the younger man tries, but Eddie isn’t having it, “It’s as Buck said, we’re a team, right, Chris?”

“Yeah,” his son thankfully agrees. “We can talk again when it’s not bed time for you, yeah?”

“Always, bud.”

“Love you, Buck.”

“Love you, too, buddy.”

Buck opens his mouth to say something else, his blue eyes flickering over to Eddie for a moment, but then his head just drops with a small thud. When snoring follows soon thereafter, Eddie is lets a small sigh of relief, unable to softly smile at the image of Buck slumped over at the screen, sleeping soundly. It is a thousand miles away from normal, but this is still inherently Buck. And Eddie is glad that his kind of care and love don’t ever change, don’t lessen, no matter the distance, and only ever seem to grow stronger.

“Night, Buck and Flareon,” Chris whispers, before sneakily getting up, even with the crutches.

“Where are you going, _mijo_?”

Chris hushes him dramatically. Eddie holds up his hands.

“I’ll make Buck another card. And send it to him with some coffee so he’s more awake next time.”

“He’s surely going to love it.” Eddie looks back at the screen. A soft smile tugs at his lips. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Buck dozing off before, quite on the contrary, especially in their line of work. But there is just something about it that makes his heart beat faster and spread warmth in his stomach, his foolish, oh so foolish heart.

No, this isn’t normal, it’s a thousand miles away from it. But Buck being Buck somehow lets Eddie believe that they are still on the right path, to where they can be as they were before.

“ _Buenas noches. Que descanses_ ,” he bids Buck goodnight, hoping that Buck will indeed sleep well. Because he deserves it, much like the card and the coffee.

_And so much more, even though Buck being Buck, he sometimes fails to see that._

Eddie breaks out laughing when Flareon emerges in front of the screen and somehow manages to put her paw on the right spot on the pad to successfully end the call.

They are going to be alright, they have to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Eddie is supposed to say in Spanish:
> 
> " _Buenas noches. Que descanses._ " - "Good night. Sleep well."


	4. Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie goes deeper down the rabbit hole, and there is only one person he can hold on to. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, it's me, again. With a plotless plot about cat adoption and emotional constipation.
> 
> Either way, thank you so, so much for sticking around with this nonsense, for the lovely comments and the kudos (seriously, I still can' get over the 200 mark - I did not even dare to hope for so many people to come to enjoy this folly).
> 
> Anywho, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Much love! ♥♥♥

Eddie has since given up trying to pinpoint the exact moments when things got worse beyond repair. Because knowing the moment he was screwed does not unscrew it by any means, Eddie had to realize.

He is way too deep in the rabbit hole by now, he should know. Eddie was down a hole before and nearly died, _literally_ , so he is well aware that he is deep in trouble. And this time, there is no rope or his team to drag him out. Eddie knew it would happen, he warned, no, _berated_ himself that it would happen and that he’d do better quitting before it grew to be a habit. Yet, here he is, becoming aware over and over, with every day passing, that he is deep in the shit.

_Mierda._

Because he is no longer just cursing at Buck in Spanish. Something else crept its way into his the words he says that Buck won’t understand. Small things, nothing beside Eddie would likely even notice, even if he muttered them under his breath in English: Feelings aside from frustration, annoyance, anger. Things Eddie does, as a matter of fact, not say to Buck or about Buck out loud. Things he stores in that box he doesn’t open and shoves down deeper inside himself, to hopefully keep it in its respective rabbit hole.

 _So the plan, but_ so _not the execution._

Eddie slips in deeper, and he knows, he _knows_ , it’s not doing anyone any good. At the same time, it makes him feel better, unburdens him in ways he didn’t even dare imagine back when it started, some nebulous moment back in time. It comes easily to him to say things he’d normally put differently, in a more analytical, not as heart-felt way. Because Eddie doesn't do well talking about emotions, at least his own. Buck understands that part about him, accepts it, even if he has no clue what Eddie is saying between the lines, only ever in the language Buck does not speak.

As a result, Eddie doesn’t have to swallow it down as much as he normally does. He can say what he feels for Buck without the other man having to understand it. He can say it without consequence. Eddie voices it in a way Buck can hear but cannot understand. That makes it so easy to stick with it. Because Eddie has been swallowing down those feelings for a long time, to hold on to that sense of normalcy he is desperate to preserve.

It’s a way of expressing himself without having to explain himself. Because explaining feelings is where it gets testy for Eddie. It’s enough of a bother to feel those feelings, sometimes too intense, too much, too hot even for a man walking through fire. But to also have to explain them?

_Thank you, but no thank you._

So when Eddie is cursing at Buck for another reckless stunt of his, he can mutter on in Spanish about how Buck matters to him so very much. And how scared he is for him. How important he is to him. How wonderful he is, not just with Chris but as a person. How Eddie wished Buck would finally see his worth the way he does. How he can’t cope without him. How much he needs him in his life, not just on the job but right next to him, simply being Buck. How much he’d want this to be their small kind of forever.

And yes, _fine_ , how much he adores that stupid cat that’s named after a Pokémon, as Eddie learned only recently from Chris. The boy threw his hands at him for not knowing this. _Apparently_ , this is common knowledge for _everyone in the entire world_ , to quote. At least if you ask Chris or Buck, who were ready to lose their minds when Eddie admitted not to know about that circumstance.

“Sometimes it feels like I don’t even know you, man,” was all Buck told him in utter exasperation, shaking his head in disapproval. And Eddie had to bite his tongue hard not to agree that there are many things Buck does not know about him, because Eddie only ever says it in Spanish. Though thankfully, his teeth were faster than his tongue, so all stayed as it ought to be.

As to aforementioned feline, Eddie would have been fine with staying merely cautiously suspicious at the ball of fur. It was the plan, actually. Eddie can’t say he is much of a cat person. But then they were over at Buck’s place the other day. Buck had been busy showing Chris the additions he’d made to the cat’s firetruck bed, now also with a siren and a drawer for a pull-out feeding dish. Eddie sat on the couch, minding his own business, until Flareon hopped in his lap, cuddled up against his stomach and purred so much his whole body vibrated. And he was done for, Buck’s shit-eating grin once he saw the scene notwithstanding.

Apparently, that cat is some strange kind of feline reincarnation of her owner.

But liking Flareon is not Eddie’s problem. Liking Buck is. Or rather, liking him in the way Eddie grew to like him and being unable to express it any other language but the one he knows Buck does not understand. Rationally, Eddie knows it’s stupid. Rationally, he understands he’d do best just talking about it to clear the air, but feelings seldom have the grace of being rational.

Instead, they punch you in the gut when you least expect it. Like walking into the shower rooms with Buck _buck_ -naked and having to duck for cover to bite down a squeal and a blush. It didn’t make a difference to Eddie until it suddenly did. And no matter the amount of good, rational reasons he lists inside his head as to why this should not be happening, _is not happening_ , Eddie finds himself short of breath with sweaty palms and everything he thought he left behind when he graduated from high school.

Eddie feels like a teenager in school all over again, foolishly swooning over the girl every boy in class wanted to date. Just that he’s swooning over the guy he works with, who halfway raises his kid, his best friend, and whom he really can’t lose over this. Because Eddie needs things to stay as they are. Because as things are, they are good. His son is good. Buck is good. And so he is good, too.

Eddie wants to think that he can deal with the awkward feelings, can swallow them down, for as long as that guarantees that his little world, his safe haven, will somehow prevail.

Only ever saying things between the lines is Eddie’s last resort to keep from combusting. Like that, he can let those little things flit out of the box where he can hardly close the lid these days. It makes it easier to keep things as they are, to ensure that what he has stays with him, doesn’t leave him. To hold on to that one last shred of normalcy he is so desperate to keep, because he just can’t lose more than he already has.

At least that’s the plan. Though reality, much like feelings, just don’t seem to give a damn on his future planning.

_To repeat: Mierda._

And because reality does not treat him any kinder than his feelings, Eddie should have known that not a day would pass where he could just invite Buck over for beer after work and have a quiet evening like he had it planned tonight.

Instead, he is holding on to Buck’s face with sheer desperation right at this moment, running gloved fingers over the soot-smeared, bloodied and inflamed cheeks of his partner. Buck is leaning, or rather, is _slouched_ , against the back of the ambulance, looking like death warmed over. And Eddie is pretty sure that the moment he let go of Buck’s face, he’d just fall forward and onto the ground, which is all the more reason for him not to even consider letting go for just one second.

Eddie makes sure the oxygen mask stays where it is, though Buck tries to grab it and pull it down over and over, missing it most of the time. While Eddie is by no means glad for Buck’s disorientation, he won’t complain that his partner’s attempts remain futile. His hands only ever brush against Eddie’s fingers and hands, to fall back into his lap.

“ _Respira. Solo respira_ ,” Eddie coaches, grimacing at himself before adding, “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Eddie is pretty sure he is hovering. _Fine_ , he knows he is hovering. Buck probably knows it, too. Though his mind seems to be a million other places, looking around dazed with red-rimmed eyes, only ever lingering a while longer when he manages to get his eyes focused on Eddie’s.

At the very least, he doesn’t tell Eddie to stop and let go. Because he can’t help it and Buck knows it, knows _him_ , better than anyone.

“Eds?” Buck manages to croak. Eddie readjusts his grip on the oxygen mask as Buck makes another attempt to tear it down.

“This stays on.”

“Kids?” Buck asks, wrinkling his nose.

“The kids are all fine, Buck,” Eddie assures him. He uttered just those words before, which does not help his anxiety right at this moment. Eddie can’t rule out a concussion at this point, but naturally, Buck insisted the paramedics check on the children first. Even if Buck is only halfway conscious, he will always do that. But being an Army medic, Eddie felt rather confident to look after his partner while the paramedics tended to the children, so long he was granted access to the ambulance.

“You kept them safe,” Eddie tells him again, offering a feeble smile. Buck lifts his gaze for a moment, his beautiful blue eyes exhausted but still sparking with relief.

“Us both,” Buck breathes.

“ _Idiota_ ,” Eddie sighs, shaking his head. “Yeah, we both kept them safe.”

Eddie would like to accuse Buck of having done something reckless so he could vent at him, but Buck did no wrong. The call sent them to a daycare center open particular for children of frontline workers. They had new lamps and ventilation systems installed just today. There was a malfunction of some kind. Maybe it wasn’t properly installed, maybe something was off with the production right from the start, they aren’t yet sure. What can be said for certain is that it took mere minutes for the whole daycare center to go up in flames.

Thankfully, most of the staff and children could evacuate even before the 118 got there, but there were still two groups in with their teachers. So Chim and Hen went for the missing members of the _Parrot Group_ , whereas Eddie and Buck, _of course_ , went for the missing members of the _Cat Group_.

By the time Eddie and Buck found them, the teachers were huddled over the children somewhere in the back of the building. The teachers had thankfully acted all by the book when it came to the fire drill, but still, they had no time to lose to evacuate. They’d just made it up to the hallway leading to the front when there was a crash above and the lamps as well as ventilation units just came crashing down.

Added to it were parts of the ceiling that crashed down, which left Eddie to stand on one side of a suddenly materialized wall with the teachers and three of the kids, and Buck on the other side leading to the back with the remaining two.

Thankfully, the two was quick to come up with a plan. Buck and Eddie cleared a small path at the bottom to slip through the maze of lamps, debris, wires, and what not. They were racing against the clock as the fire ate its way down to the base of the wall, so it was “act now or die trying”. Buck put his helmet and jacket on the first kid to prevent injury, which was just about the only protection they could provide at this point. Then Buck pushed and Eddie pulled once he got his hands on tiny fingers curling around his wrists. Once the first child was secure in the arms of the teachers, Eddie bundled up jacket and helmet and basically bowled them back over to Buck, and they repeated the process another time for the remaining child.

While the kids had comparably little trouble slipping through, tiny as they are, Buck found himself struggling a lot more.

_Sometimes, it actually is not good for you to be that packed, it turns out._

In the end, the only way was to leave the oxygen tank and the mask or else Buck would have remained trapped. With Eddie’s help, Buck managed to haul himself out on the other side, only for one lamp to fall down and knock him in the head, hard. Though thankfully, Eddie insisted he wore the helmet, too. Buck was a bit in and out of it after he took the hit to the head. Even with the helmet, the lamp was damn heavy and came down fast.

If not for the children and the others at risk, Eddie would have liked to fuss about Buck more at that moment, but they had to get out, especially since Buck was now also without his oxygen tank. It was a lot of staggering and stumbling and falling and getting back up.

And cursing, a lot of it. Eddie in Spanish and Buck in English.

They made it out just in time as an explosion hit, which was way too close to that time in the factory where Buck saved Saneh, at least to Eddie’s liking. All were just glad to collapse on the ground outside. They’d both been so hysteric they just started laughing hoarsely, but then Buck lost it for a moment and slumped forward and Eddie was ready to lose it for real.

So no, he can’t be mad with Buck, and so it doesn't seem right cursing at him, no matter the language. There is no anger, just worry, fright, the things Eddie tries not to show on his face, tries not to show to Buck, to anyone. Because then he’d have to admit that there is reason to worry, to be concerned, a good reason to fear that he may wind up losing someone as important to him as Buck.

Eddie had been quick to assess the damage, and _will_ insist to anyone that Buck takes a trip to the hospital to have a scan to ensure no brain damage to anyone who asks. So Eddie knows that Buck is most likely going to be fine, has to be fine. But no matter how reasonable his mind is, his heart is in another place. It dances on his fingertips, still brushing soot and sweat away, trying to get Buck to focus on him. His heart is in his throat, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

It’s right there, looking back at him through blue orbs, dazed and tired and hurt and yet so foolishly happy and proud, infuriatingly wonderful and good and kind.

Buck’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but he can’t seem to bring out any sounds, let alone coherent words. Eddie would want to pat him on the shoulder, put on his masquerade and just not feel, but Eddie knows that wish will remain unfulfilled. The worry won’t wash, can’t be swallowed down and put into the box because the lid is off and Eddie doesn’t even try to shove it back shut. Because he has his hands grab Buck’s face with no intention to let go, as though holding on to him may keep his tiny world from breaking apart.

“ _Ay, Iván, qué susto. Mi corazón. Tú eres mi corazón. No me dejes. Por favor, mi corazón._ ”

Yes, Buck is his heart, and it is frantic and vulnerable, even if it tries to act all tough. And no, Eddie doesn't want Buck to leave him, not now, not ever. Eddie is shouting it at him, right here by the ambulance, but Buck doesn’t know. He can’t know. Because that is what Eddie chose as his safety net, so his world does not crumble and fall. And he should be glad for it that he does not, but Eddie can only hold on to him. Because he really can’t afford to lose him.

Buck smiles at him lopsidedly, worn out and barely holding on to the edges of consciousness, not understanding a thing, _of course_. He opens his mouth to say something again, but then his lips curl into a frown, seemingly having lost the thought entirely.

The paramedic arrives back at the ambulance and tells Eddie that they are ready to pack up and get going to the hospital. He climbs in without waiting for Buck to give his permission, not once letting go of Buck’s arm. Because Buck gets no say when it comes to that, like some other things between them, but on that particular thing, no questions asked, the answer given. Making sure Buck is alright is out of question for him. Because that, Eddie can do.

The rest, he can only do in the language he doesn’t understand, but holding on to him, not letting go, it is a language Buck understands even halfway passed out and with the sirens blaring so loudly all words die out.

So Eddie is holding on, because that, he can do. That, he can say with all of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Eddie is supposed to say in Spanish:
> 
> " _Mierda!_ " - "Shit!"
> 
> " _Respira. Solo respira._ " - "Breathe. Just breathe."
> 
> " _Idiota._ " - "Idiot."
> 
> " _Ay, Iván, qué susto. Mi corazón. Tú eres mi corazón. No me dejes. Por favor, mi corazón._ " - "Oh, Evan, what a scare. My heart. You are my heart. Don't leave me. Please, my heart."


	5. Don't Tempt Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another call brings about some unexpected revelations and an even more unexpected return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, it's me again. And you are still here and I am shooketh that y'all stick around for plotless plot, utter nonsense, and no Spanish skillz whatsoever. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos. Y'all are too kind for words, no matter if they are English or Spanish... or my actual mother tongue.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the latest installment of whatever the fuck this here is! 
> 
> Much love! ♥♥♥

Eddie knows he isn’t helping himself by only ever expressing his feelings in a language he knows Buck cannot understand. It’s a safety measure so that he doesn’t have to share his feelings, he understands that even without seeing a therapist. By sticking to that _method_ , Eddie can say the things he can’t work up the courage to say to Buck in the language he _would_ understand.

It is unfair, he knows that, too, but Eddie can’t help himself. Just like he can’t stop having those feelings he wants to be unheard of… _forever, preferably_. Which is the problem, the imminent threat dangling above his head. The unspoken sword of Damocles: That Eddie may lose this. That it will blow up like so many things blew up in his face when Eddie found the courage to speak his mind, speak from the heart.

While Shannon did not die as a result of him proposing to her again, and her turning him down, it was like that: He finally got around it, to speak the truth of his heart, and it blew right in his face. What Buck tends to think is the universe screaming, Eddie regards as reality telling him to slow down, think hard, and proceed with caution. Because he lost too much by now, and losing what he has with Buck, losing Buck, it’s something Eddie doesn’t even want to imagine as a hypothetical scenario.

So long things are as they are right now, Eddie feels like he is managing, like they are all managing together, like he can do this. And he knows that he owes that to Buck, to his presence in his and Christopher’s life. Because Buck always has his heart in the right place, even when that sometimes leads to some bad decision-making. Not that Eddie can say that he makes perfect calls all the time.

_Far from it. Why else would I be in this situation, huh?_

He doesn’t just enjoy being around Buck, he _needs_ to be around him. It’s a matter of fact, tough to swallow but still just as true. Eddie needs him around because Buck is part of that life, that little kind of normal he is holding onto as hard as he possibly can. So long Buck is there, Eddie feels reassured that they are doing fine. That no matter how shitty the situation, they can get through it. Buck doesn’t even have to do anything, though he does a lot, more than he probably should feel like giving. His mere presence is enough. So long he is around, Eddie is sure even of the things he is so uncertain about at times that he can hardly get any sleep obsessing about it.

When Buck is being Buck, Eddie feels like he can be himself, too. And since he likes Buck being Buck, with all his flaws and qualities, loves him for it, actually, Eddie can hate himself a little less each time – for all _his_ flaws. For having abandoned Christopher earlier on during his childhood. For all the times he feels like failing, even though he’s trying so hard. For feeling like he still can’t move on from Shannon’s death, no matter how much time passed since, no matter how good he got since, all the more thanks to Buck supporting him.

When he sees Buck adoring him for adoring his son, Eddie feels like he is getting there, that he is already there. Buck regards him already way past the finishing line. And while Eddie knows that to be untrue, it is almost intoxicating, this feeling, this surety he finds himself lacking, this unshakable faith in him as a friend and as a father that Eddie can’t muster for himself. But Buck can, easily.

Eddie knows that for Buck, the bar for good parenting is not really high. His parents couldn’t even be bothered to pay attention to their son unless he got hurt. So Buck being so supportive of him, telling him that he is a great dad over and over, almost seems comical now that Eddie knows about Buck’s parents. But he knows that Buck means it with every fiber of his being.

Perhaps Buck understands it better than most, no matter how high or low the bar may be. Because Buck had to fight even for the most trivial things, for mere attention, had to learn to cherish the trivialities of life, fight for them, get hurt to have them, keep them. And in that way, Evan Buckley, despite not being exactly wise, learned very early on in his life just how important those supposedly trivial things are.

Because to Buck, those things aren’t meaningless. He never had the luxury to treat them as trivial, as mundane, because they weren’t naturally given though they should have been. He had to fight for attention as a child, though it should have been trivial, natural, given. Buck thought the only way to get his parents to _notice_ him was pain. And apparently, it worked, it was what it took for them to see him, which is why he stuck with it.

_Bueno, que se vayan al diablo. Screw them! Good riddance! You really don’t deserve this! You don't deserve him!  
_

Not a day passes since Eddie learned of it that he feels like knocking some sense into Buck’s parents, for leaving their children to fend for themselves only for the sake of their own grief. For letting Buck believe for only just a second that he was not worth the attention, not worth the care. And even now seemingly only ever seeing his worth in his commitment to saving others, and not all the hundreds of other qualities that make him inherently Buck.

To Buck, Eddie loving his kid is already above average, outstanding, amazing, worth praise, _and a fuckin’ parade_. Because Buck didn’t have that with his parents. And as much as it pains Eddie to know that Buck thinks that way still, he dares to take some kind of pride in being a father the way Buck sees in him, as the kind of parent he would have needed his own to be.

Now, these things, Eddie is pretty sure he can say to Buck, even in English. _Most of them_. While talking about feelings is not at all his forte, he’d say it if needed. The tumbling stone is down that same road, though: the _small_ issue of his stupid feelings for Buck that aren’t just mutual appreciation and care. The _small_ issue that he is in love with Evan Buckley. The _small_ issue that he can’t talk about this without threatening what they have. The _small_ issue that he can only ever say it in Spanish. As though that made them just a bit more real, a bit more out there, though he might just as well only think the part.

_Sin esperanza._

Hopeless may really be the one way of describing Eddie’s current condition.

The one thing reassuring Eddie is that it does not tend to affect their work. Because he’d be in a totally different dilemma if it did. The moment there is action, the moment he smells soot and ash and dust, Eddie can leave it all aside and focus on the task at hand. He can fall in sync with Buck and only worry about what he really has to worry about – the people they are meant to save, and making sure his partner does not pull a reckless stunt worth a lecture in either Spanish or English.

Today is no different. They fell right back into sync the moment they got out of the firetruck and to the scene on the outskirt of town. Only few words needed to be exchanged before they were heading in.

They continued to work their way through debris and burning furniture without needing to say much of anything, until Eddie had a bit of a déjà-vu within mere seconds: He was thrown back the daycare center ablaze, to holding Buck’s face and telling him all those things he can’t ever voice to him in English.

Because only they get so lucky to get separated twice in such close succession. And while Eddie does not – _at all_ – believe in jinxes or hexes or whatever else, he surely felt like this must have been some epic kind of joke specifically played at their expenses.

This time, it was a staircase that just came crushing down. Thankfully, all moved out of the way in time, so no one got hurt. So things weren’t good, but they could have been far worse.

“Universe is still screaming, Eddie! Like a damn banshee!” was all Buck shouted from the other side. They quickly agreed to move separately and regroup outside. Not that there were many alternatives for them. So the split up, with Eddie leading his group to the back of the burning building, trying his best to ignore the tightness in his throat that didn’t come from a lack of oxygen.

This call just fitted right in with their current level of misfortune, though, _of course, for the record_ , Eddie still does not believe in any such thing. It had taken all of the team just about everything not to throw a fit when the call came. The living quarters of plantation workers had caught fire. Once they moved in, the team quickly discovered easily flammable materials having been in use to build these cardboard-like death traps. Because the plantation owner did not only use cheapest materials to build the living quarters, he also put way too many people in close proximity in the wake of a global pandemic. Needless to mention that there were no ventilation systems or even enough masks available for the workers.

So the staircase coming down just seemed like the icing to that bitter cake.

Now, Eddie cannot sigh with relief even as the last worker rushes out of the back of the building after he cleared the passage. His blood is still boiling. Those people could have gotten killed only because the owner wanted to save some bucks and fit in more people. But it is not the matter right now. He has to see the workers off to the paramedics and then check on his partner.

The sigh of relief comes to him mere moments later, when Eddie spots Buck by the ambulances already, looking just fine. Though of course, Eddie will check him over once he’s close enough. Because you can never know with his partner. Buck is smiling, Eddie can tell even with the mask on. As Eddie approaches, Buck is in conversation with one of the workers he got to safety, propped up on the gurney.

Buck’s eyes catch him walking up to them, then. His partner taps the man on the shoulder gently before jogging up to Eddie to meet him halfway.

“Glad you are finally out, man! You’ve kept me waiting,” Buck says, grinning, though Eddie can tell there is a fringe of worry to it that he tries to smile away. His partner squeezes his shoulder. “Bobby said you were in no danger, which is why he didn’t let me get back in.”

Eddie taps Buck’s hand still on his shoulder. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him how he is not the only one checking his partner over. They really are in sync when it comes to these things.

“Good for me, then. Because then I would have had to come back in to find you trying to find me,” Eddie huffs, adding more mildly, “Everything’s fine. It seems to have been for you, too?”

“Yeah, I found a window to smash and climb through,” Buck recounts. “So… all’s good, I guess.”

“Told you, no universe screaming,” Eddie tells him.

“Don’t tempt fate, my friend,” Buck snorts. “Because if you tempt fate, you know that means I am stuck with you, having to appease the gods.”

“You know I don’t believe in any of that,” Eddie points out to him. Though he does believe in the latter part: If Eddie were to fight against misfortune itself, Evan Buckley would only ever be one step behind him.

Buck points a finger at him, narrowing his eyes. “And _you_ know that I will deck you if you dare use the Q-word at the firehouse.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but then looks back at the worker on the gurney. “I see you made some friends?”

“Yeah, Pietro and I were a dream team in there, as my partner was not available because of his ignorance to the inner workings of the universe,” Buck jokes. “We didn’t even need words to communicate, the guy was just about reading my mind.”

“Wanna change partners?” Eddie teases.

“Nah, someone has to watch out for you, after all. And Pietro has better to do than look after me,” Buck answers. “I stayed with him because he’s a bit afraid of needles. So I talked him through it. I am good at talking.”

“Nineteen to the dozen.”

“Rude,” Buck sniggers.

Eddie shrugs. “Still true.”

“True but still rude.”

They walk back to the ambulance. Just as they get to Pietro, the paramedic comes up to them. “Alright, we are ready to pack him up.”

“Thanks,” Buck replies. “Take good care of him. He’s got the cutest niece. I’ve seen the pictures, even if some got a bit sizzled.”

He gives Pietro’s arm a light squeeze and a wink. “ _Llámame si necesitas algo. Estaré encantado de ayudarte._ ”

“ _Gracias, Buck, Gracias_ ,” the plantation worker mutters.

“ _De nada_ ,” Buck assures him, so you can hear the grin even through the face mask. “ _Hasta luego, mi amigo_.”

Then the paramedic shuts the door and climbs into the car to drive away. Buck’s features drop the moment Pietro can no longer see him. They have all been barely containing their anger, but looking at that cold fury, Eddie knows that his partner is well beyond the realm of being pissed.

“I wanna strangle that bastard so hard, man,” Buck hisses, grinding his teeth. “To him, it was only about losing money! Just money, Eds!”

It is the very antithesis to who Buck is. Someone who cares so deeply even for a stranger cannot even begin to compute to willingly put other people at risk, to regard them as any less valuable than himself. But there are not nearly enough Evan Buckleys out there, or else, of that Eddie is sure, the world would be a much merrier place.

_And just a bit more annoying, but that’s beside the point._

“Yeah, I know, I feel very much the same,” Eddie sighs.

“They could have died in there! Pietro could have died in there, without having seen his niece he’s saving money for, so she can get a better education than him! _We_ could have died in there! And all that thanks to another Ebenezer Scrooge thinking he can save a dime by doing away with the fire extinguishers, among other things.”

“Well, that one will have to pay for it,” Eddie ponders, though he shares Buck’s sentiment, he does.

“That’s _one_ of them, but how many more are out there, getting through with that shit, treating people like the dirt under their polished shoes? And that doesn’t even begin to talk about how they may have gotten each other sick,” Buck continues to rant.

“I know,” Eddie sighs in a mild tone.

“When people are that indifferent to other people, I just can’t stand it,” Buck adds feebly, letting his head hang low.

Eddie purses his lips as he presses his hand to the back of his partner’s neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knows where that is coming from, and it does not only come from Buck being compassionate and caring. Eddie knows by now just how much apathy can scare even someone as fearless as Buck.

“ _Lo sé_ , I know, partner,” Eddie mutters, his voice soothing. “But we got them. _Yo te tengo._ ”

_And I got you, too, even when I don’t find the words or even the language to express it in._

“You are right, we got them out, that’s all that matters,” Buck exhales, offering a small smile Eddie returns in kind. Eddie lets his hand linger for a moment too long, he realizes, but Buck doesn’t seem to mind.

“Buckaroo!” Hen calls out. The two whip their heads around to see her and Bobby approach, Eddie’s hand falling down from Buck’s neck.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Cap’s had a _fabulous_ idea to get back at that son of a gun of a plantation owner right out of the 18th century,” Hen tells them, looking very much like the human incarnation of the Cheshire Cat.

“Which is?” Buck wants to know, directing his attention over to the Captain, whose grin is no less shit-eating than Hen’s.

“We managed to get the word out to some news outlets,” Bobby answers. “The reporters will be here any minute.”

“I don’t think I catch your drift,” Eddie replies, frowning.

“You and me both, partner,” Buck huffs.

“Well, since you are still riding on Flareon’s fame on the news, you, Mr. Buckley, are going to talk to some of them as well,” Hen lets him know.

Buck gapes at them. “You mean…”

“You get to go Fire Marshall on them,” Bobby confirms, nodding his head. “Stick to the facts, report what you saw lacking when it came to security measurements. Don’t add stuff we can’t tell for sure. But you have my allowance to point out very specifically what you could not help but notice as a former Fire Marshall.”

“Get that scrawny ass and give it a whippin’, Buckaroo.”

Buck’s face lights up the moment he hears this, childish enthusiasm wiping away any anger he felt boiling up before, surely. “Count me in!”

“Is that the typical procedure, though?” Eddie asks, cocking an eyebrow at the Captain. Bobby just shrugs his shoulders. “That guy asked for special treatment when we arrived at the scene, now he’s getting it.”

“And I forgot to bring the clipboard, damn!” Buck laments, tapping his hand against his forehead.

“I think you can manage without,” Hen chuckles softly, giving him arm a light squeeze. “Aaaand I think I can hear the chattering growing louder. We should get there before that white-collar scumbag can disappear or try to paint a different picture of the situation.”

“Then let’s go, people!” Buck shouts, clapping his hands together. “Fire Marshall Buckley is back for one last mission.”

“Just remember…,” Bobby tries to warn him, but Buck stops him, rolling his eyes, “Just stating the obvious. Just very loudly. I can do that, Cap.”

“No doubt there.”

Buck claps Eddie on the shoulder with a big grin before catching up with Hen and Bobby to give that owner the hell he deserves. Eddie watches him go, smiling softly.

He will never tire of appreciating Buck’s compassion for people. So many people are indifferent to the wrongs in the world, but not so with Evan Buckley. Because he is the kind of guy to distract a patient afraid of needles and who will use his brief excursion as a Fire Marshall to rip a greedy bastard a new one.

Eddie pauses then, letting the images replay in his mind. His lips curl into a frown as he goes back to the worker who just got wheeled away.

_Wait. Did Buck speak Spanish with Pietro?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dunnnnnnnnnn, Eddie.
> 
> What our hopeless firefighter in lurve is supposed to say in Spanish:
> 
> " _Bueno, que se vayan al diablo._ " - "Well, screw them."
> 
> " _Sin esperanza._ " - "Hopeless."
> 
> " _Llámame si necesitas algo. Estaré encantado de ayudarte._ " - "Call me if you need anything. I'd be happy to help."
> 
> " _Gracias, Buck, Gracias._ " - "Thanks, Buck. Thanks."
> 
> " _Lo sé._ " - "I know."
> 
> " _Yo te tengo._ " - "I got you."
> 
> " _De nada. Hasta luego, mi amigo._ " - "You're welcome. See you, my friend."


	6. That's It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, you guys are still around??? You are so funny and precious and cute. So, here's another installment of Eddie Diaz being an oblivious himbo in love with another oblivious himbo.
> 
> Thanks for the lovely comments and kudos. I am happy beyond words that you enjoy the plotless plot featuring a cat.
> 
> And for those who may fret: We are going to get Buck's side of the events soon, just not with this chapter yet. ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Much love! ❤❤❤

Eddie sighs as he turns the key in the lock to _finally_ be home. The shift had been uneventful, that’s not it. Eddie wished he was as worn down as he is from doing his job, doing something productive. Instead, Eddie has been working himself up ever since the plantation call. So much so that he couldn’t feel as much relief as he normally would, once he saw the public shaming for the shitty plantation owner unfolding, which culminated in a bunch of petitions to investigate and improve working conditions in those work fields.

What is nagging at Eddie is the possibility that Buck speaks Spanish – and he just remained oblivious to the circumstance as he kept ranting on, venting his frustrations, and far more importantly, the feelings he won’t say out loud in English.

Since Buck was caught up with the interviews to play the Fire Marshall card, they missed each other back at the firehouse, so Eddie could not ask Buck about it. It only occurred to him later on that his mind had simply translated the few words Buck had spoken to Pietro in Spanish. And by the time Eddie’s mind finally caught up to the news, it was too late. Former Fire Marshall Buckley was back for one last ride to lead that plantation owner straight to hell. And Eddie was left breaking his head over whether Buck actually spoke Spanish or he just imagined it or Buck just knows five phrases in total and just worked them into conversation. Though if Buck can actually speak Spanish well enough to understand what Eddie said all along, it was too late well before the call. And now it’s too late to ask.

Not that Eddie _wants_ to ask about it. That’s the other thing keeping him awake, on edge, palms sweaty, head all over the place, searching for an exit: Can he even ask Buck about it without opening the Pandora’s Box? Sure, Eddie could casually question whether Buck understood Spanish. But what if the answer turned out to be yes? What if it turned out that Buck understood all of what Eddie said in the false sense of security that his feelings would remain hidden behind the language barrier?

 _What if he was just being_ polite _– by pretending not to hear me bearing my foolish heart to him?_

It’s been two days since the plantation call. Buck has a few days off – at Bobby’s insistence – so even if Eddie had gathered the courage to address the issue, he didn’t get to see Buck to breach the topic. Plus, he tends to think that this is no conversation you should have over the phone, not if it may turn out to be anything but casual.

_Hey, great you called back. Apparently, I confessed my romantic feelings for you all this time and whoopsie, apparently you understood all of that. So, wanna come over to have that discussion I really don’t want to have…? Yeah. No, thanks._

Though even the casual alternative doesn’t feel any more comforting to him. Eddie will raise suspicions if he asks Buck about it now. So what if Buck gets an inkling that he has been saying something else besides some ordinary Spanish cussing and starts to question back?

_Can you tell yourself you told you so?_

Eddie’s frown deepens when he hears chattering in the kitchen, _Spanish_ chattering. His abuela is watching Chris today, now that she’s vaccinated, but who else is in there with them?

“ _¿En cual temperatura se necesita poner el horno?”_ he can hear someone ask from inside the kitchen, the pronunciation perhaps not perfect but damn well beyond beginner’s skills. Eddie freezes, recognizing the voice instantly.

_Buck. Fuck. ¡Porque no! No, just no. This can’t be happening right now. Joder!_

Eddie rushes inside, trying to outrun his thoughts and feelings before they can catch up to him, but the moment he sees his abuela and his partner casually chatting away in Spanish in the kitchen, laughing and smiling, Eddie feels like passing out.

Buck understands Spanish. He speaks Spanish.

_Joder. Joder. Joder!_

“Ah, Edmundo!” his grandmother calls out as she sees him walk inside.

“Hey, Eddie!” Buck greets him cheerily, as if nothing ever was, which only ever adds to Eddie’s overall confusion.

_Just what is going on here?_

“Buck? Ugh, what are you doing here?” he asks, trying to keep his voice even, trying to sound not at all as freaked as he his.

“I wanted to see my best bud, so I thought I’d just drop by and check on him,” Buck explains. “And since your abuela was already here, we agreed to co-babysit until you got home. Though I am really just trying to cheat her out of recipes and blackmail material on you. And trust me, I am so, so close to your baby pictures, I can almost feel them between my fingertips.”

“Only in exchange for petting the celebrity cat – and lunch you cook for me,” his abuela says, pointing a finger at Eddie while making a noise in the back of her throat. “His? No good.”

“Abuela!”

“Hey, don’t ask your wonderful abuela to lie for you and your miserable excuse for cooking,” Buck sniggers, motioning closer. “Seriously, Flareon is one of the best things that happened to me. She’s like a real-life cheat code.”

“Can I talk to you for just a minute outside?” Eddie asks, pressing his lips into a thin line. He is ready to combust, he is short before breaking point. And Eddie would rather not do that in front of his abuela. It’s enough he’ll have to do it in front of Buck of all people.

_In case I didn’t say it often enough yet: Joder!_

Buck frowns at him, sensing the tension instantly. “Uhm, sure?”

He looks back at his abuela. “Keep in mind: celebrity cat plus dinner – in exchange for _all_ the secrets to this recipe.”

She pats his cheek with the flat of her hand. “Ay, I always keep my word.”

“Keep looking that pretty, I will be right back, so you can tell me all about how to make the sauce!” Buck winks at her.

Eddie turns around stiffly and walks back out the door to the front of the house. He really hoped he’d just imagined it. But now he’s heard it. There is no way of denying it anymore. _His_ real-life cheat code was apparently a hoax, because Buck knew it all the while.

_And I am royally fucked._

His partner trots after Eddie, a big questioning mark standing on his forehead. “What’s up, man?”

“Since when do you speak Spanish?” Eddie demands to know, harsher than intended, but his nerves are short before short circuit. 

_Because if Buck understood me this whole time, then… Jodeeeeeeeeer._

Buck furrows his eyebrows at him. “Hm?”

“I want to know since when you can speak Spanish,” Eddie repeats, folding his arms over his chest.

“For _that_ I had to come with you outside? Eddie, _c’mon_ ,” Buck grumbles, holding up his hands. “I told you, your abuela was just about to…”

“I _really_ need to know, Buck. Like, right now.”

Or better yesterday, the month before, whenever the hell Eddie thought he could keep things simple by expressing the things he can’t speak in a language he can speak, so long no one else does.

His partner looks at him for an agonizingly long moment, his lips curling into an uncertain frown. “Since my time in Peru, I guess? In fairness, I sound horrible, but I mostly understand what people say. Or at the very least I get the gist of it.”

Eddie’s shoulders sag, letting the agonizing truth sink in. “You understood Spanish this whole time.”

“If by ‘this whole time’ you mean since Peru, then yeah?” Buck wrinkles his nose, either very good at pretending to be perfectly oblivious or actually still not catching on, and Eddie can’t say what’s worse. “Like, what language do you think Peruvians generally speak? Hindi?”

Eddie knows Buck is right. He mentioned Peru, so what on earth possessed Eddie not to think about the viable chance that Buck may speak some Spanish, _or actually be fuckin’ fluent_? Had Eddie just put two and two together, he may not be so threateningly close to reduce three to two. And here he tends to joke about Buck being shit at math.

_Dios, Eddie, eres tan idiota._

“You are telling me that this whole time I curse at you in Spanish, you understand every damn word I say?” Eddie needs to clarify, his mind still busy catching up to that input he tried to push away to preserve some sense of sanity.

Because if Buck understood this whole time, then why wouldn’t he say anything? If he understood what Eddie said beside the curses, why did he not mention it? Was he really just trying to be polite, so not to force Eddie into having to admit to it? Is this Buck’s polite way of saying this friend “I feel really flattered, man, but you are more like a brother to me, so this is really awkward”?

Buck’s mouth opens and closes a few times, then laughs, “Not _every_ damn word. You have a colorful vocabulary and way of expression, my dude. And you talk way too fast when you cuss. It’s like a machine gun. As I said, I get the gist of it. _Most_ of the time.”

“ _Increíble_ … And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning to me?” Eddie asks, licking his lips, muscles tense.

“Not really?” Buck answers. “I found it funny.”

Eddie feels his stomach sink, only for his heart to drop even lower.

“ _Funny_ ,” he repeats.

Buck can’t mean that, can he? He can’t find it funny that Eddie has been having that stupid crush and saying not just those curses but also the other things, the things Eddie wanted to express without explanation. He can’t find that funny, ridiculous, can he?

_Can he?_

Eddie can see tension build up in Buck’s body, rolling his shoulders, his lips rising to a smile, then dropping it again. “Eddie, I really don’t get why you are being mad at me right now.”

“I am… I am not mad,” Eddie replies, pursing his lips, shaking his head.

“Tell that your face. It doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo,” Buck tries to joke, but it falls flat, rolls on the ground and away.

Eddie sighs. He really shouldn’t be one getting upset here. It’s not Buck’s fault, it’s his, only ever his own. He is actually not mad, not at Buck. Eddie is mad at himself for being so stupid not to see that, for opening that Pandora’s Box. For being the one who was actually oblivious, though he is supposed to be the calm and composed one of the two. Eddie is mad at himself for feeling that way and that it now has any chance to be one joke at his expenses. He is mad at being so madly in love.

“C’mon, man,” Buck says, reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. “I was actually hoping to say something vaguely Spanish back at you at the firehouse for everyone to witness your jaw dropping to the ground. When it’s just us two, it doesn’t have the same effect, so I couldn’t… let go of my poker face, yeah?”

“So instead you pretended not to know what I kept cursing at you?” Eddie questions, balling his fists, trying to keep his cool, though he is just below the boiling point.

“More like… I just found it too funny to blow it,” Buck laughs nervously. “You remind me of your aunties when you do that, which is very adorable if you asked me.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. Because only Evan Buckley would wind up doing something like that, only for the sake of a punchline. “You really are a piece of work, Buck.”

Though the tragedy is that Eddie is now the butt end of a joke that he brought upon himself entirely on his own. Buck mentioned Peru before. Eddie readily assume Buck understood no single word of Spanish, knowing this fact, because… why? Right, because he didn’t want to think about it. He was just concerned with how to let out his pent-up feelings for his best friend.

_Idiota._

“Right back at you, channeling your inner Spanish telenovela persona,” Buck jokes, but Eddie doesn’t feel like laughing. He feels like yelling, shouting, turning around and driving away, cursing a lot in Spanish. Even though that’s what ended him in this mess.

“Look, I know enough Spanish to know almost all ingredients for cocktails, how to hold casual conversation with drunk people, ask directions… and cuss words, because those are always most fun to learn. I touched up on some of my Spanish during quarantine, all thanks to the Duolingo Owl scowling me to train my vocab. But that’s it, really.”

Eddie looks up. “That’s it?”

Because Buck made no mention of the _other_ things Eddie said. _Just_ the curses. _Only_ just the cussing. _Not_ the muttered words of adoration. The screamed words to remain with him, not to leave him, because he needs him, because he loves him. _None_ of it.

“I repeat: My Spanish was passable enough to get me through Peru and back. _Punto_ ,” Buck assures him. “I just waited for the perfect opportunity to screw you over at the firehouse. If that offended you… I would say I am sorry for setting you up, but you have been offending me in Spanish this whole time and I let it slide, so I think we are even, right?”

Eddie swallows. He just got his head out of the sling. The lid of the box didn’t come loose without his notice. It is in place. Normalcy does not yet have to end.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie sighs.

Buck didn’t understand all of it. The things he said between the lines that weren’t just curses, they are still with him and only him. The Pandora’s Box only opened a bit to let a few catastrophes out. The rest? Eddie can get that back under control. He has to. Because he does not want his world to change and twist into something they are not.

_Respira. Solo respira, idiota._

“So… we are good?” Buck wants to know. And Eddie feels straight-up miserable for the uncertainty in his partner’s voice. After all, he is the cause of it, and that does not sit right with Eddie at all. Because Buck should not have to feel bad over this. Eddie started it. It’s entirely on him. It’s only him, him and his stupid feelings that seemingly make him blind to the most obvious things.

He touches his forehead. “Yeah, we are good, sorry.”

Buck studies him a moment longer, then leans back, flashing a still too uncertain smile. “Damn, you had me scared there for a second, man.”

“Sorry about that,” Eddie replies feebly. He starts to feel like shit already. Not just for the Spanish cursing but also for upsetting Buck because of it. It’s him and his stupid problems, his even stupider feelings. None of that is on Buck. None of it.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. That’s what I get for bluffing for too long, no matter my amazing pokerface,” Buck sighs, flashing a small smile. “So that means I have to go for the baby pictures again to get back at you around the firehouse. Though with Flareon’s help, I may get my hands on them any of these days.”

“Keep up the wishful thinking,” Eddie says numbly, flashing a crooked smile that won’t reach his eyes, he knows. He just has to look at Buck’s to know that he is not entirely buying it, but is too kind not to press the issue.

Because Buck knows Eddie. And Eddie should know Buck better than he showed himself to know. Because had Eddie listened more carefully, paid more attention, he could have spared them both that awkward misunderstanding.

“It’s not wishful thinking if the universe is on your side. And the universe is definitely on my side when it comes to Flareon.”

“I thought the universe is screaming,” Eddie huffs, his features tight.

“Like a damn banshee,” Buck confirms. “But I try to focus on the good things, the ones we can affect. And cheating your abuela out of your baby pictures for eternal humiliation? With Flareon’s superpowers? I stand a pretty good chance, I think.”

_Don’t tempt fate, huh?_

“So… we can get back to your abuela’s fantastic food, yes?” Buck asks, pointing behind himself, back to the open door. “I gotta soak up those cooking lessons like a sponge, man. My parents banned me from the kitchen after a certain incident involving the set of kitchen knives. And because you apparently didn’t, at least one of us has to make sure Chris gets food that’s edible.”

“First of all, it’s not _that_ bad, how dare you? And second of all… sure, it’s fine.”

He gives Buck’s shoulder a squeeze for emphasis, offering a crooked smile. The younger man smiles at him, visibly relieved. Eddie can’t say he shares the sentiment. He is more confused than ever. Buck understood some of what he said, but he didn’t understand the things that were not just curses. And Eddie knows he should be relived about it, he should feel like he can finally breathe easy again, but… he just doesn’t. Eddie feels disappointed, though he’s got no reason to be.

Because he got what he wanted. Things are just as they are. It’s just him who doesn’t seem to fit and he can’t make sense of it, no matter the language.

_Joder._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What our himbos in love are supposed to say in Spanish:
> 
> " _“¿En cual temperatura se necesita poner el horno?_ " - "At what temperature do you need to set the oven?"
> 
> " _¡Porque no!_ " - "Just no!"
> 
> " _Joder._ " - "Fuck."
> 
> " _Dios, Eddie, eres tan idiota._ " - "God, Eddie, you're such an idiot."
> 
> " _Increíble!_ " - "Unbelievable!"
> 
> " _Idiota._ " - "Idiot."
> 
> " _Punto._ " - "Period."
> 
> " _Respira. Solo respira, idiota._ " - "Breathe. Just breathe, idiot."


End file.
